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GONE TO
THE WEST INDIES
A' ye
wha live by sowps o drink,
A' ye wha live by crambo?clink,
A' ye wha live and never think
Come, mourn wi me!
Our billie's gien us a' a jink,
An owre the sea!
Lament
him a' ye rantin core,
Wha dearly like a random?splore;
Nae mair he'll join the merry roar,
In social key;
For now he's taen anither shore,
An owre the sea!
The
bonie lasses weel may wiss him,
And in their dear petitions place him:
The widows, wives, an a' may bless him
Wi tearfu e'e,
For weel I wat they'll sairly miss him
That's owre the sea!
O
Fortune, they hae room to grumble!
Hadst thou taen aff some drowsy bummle,
Wha can do nought but fyke an fumble,
'Twad been nae plea;
But he was gleg as onie wumble,
That's owre the sea!
Auld,
cantie Kyle may weepers wear,
An stain them wi the saut, saut tear:
'Twill mak her poor auld heart, I fear,
In flinders flee:
He was her Laureat monie a year,
That's owre the sea!
He saw
Misfortune's cauld nor?west
Lang?mustering up a bitter blast;
A jillet brak his heart at last,
Ill may she be!
So, took a berth afore the mast,
An owre the sea.
To
tremble under Fortune's cummock,
On scarce a bellyfu o drummock,
Wi his proud, independent stomach,
Could ill agree;
So, row't his hurdies in a hammock,
An owre the sea.
He
ne'er was gien to great misguiding,
Yet coin his pouches wad na bide in;
Wi him it ne'er was under hiding;
He dealt it free;
The Muse was a' that he took pride in,
That's owre the sea.
Jamaica
bodies, use him weel,
An hap him in a cozie biel:
Ye'll find him ay a dainty chiel,
An fou o glee:
He wad na wrang'd the vera Deil,
That's owre the sea.
Fareweel,
my rhyme?composing billie!
Your native soil was right ill?willie;
But may ye flourish like a lily,
Now bonilie!
I'll toast you in my hindmost gillie,
Tho owre the sea!
Poem Index
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